The Continuing Saga

2 hours Friday afternoon dedicated to helping settle Grandmaman in the new place. A bargain, as Maman and the Avuncular One were there all day.

6 hours Saturday going through the last of the Closets of Holding, which contained mostly hats and linens. Sis emerged with a piece of headwear that can best be described as suitable for a child of The Cat in the Hat and Nancy Sinatra who had decided to become a drum major. Following the sorting of hats and linens, we went to the new place, where Grandmaman, having apparently sworn off the 120-proof vitriol for the day, instead played the 'poor little me' passive-aggressive routine. Ignoring her enthusiastically, we unpacked her remaining boxes. Approximately 3/4 of what we unpacked we then repacked, because there was no place to put it. She hadn't given up any of the bric-a-brac which had occupied the enormous corner cupboard. Sis and I snitched out a few pieces quickly while the Avuncular One wasn't looking and the Viking and the Engineer, bless their hearts, packed the remainder back to the old apartment.

The closet also contained approximately one thousand bags and wrappers for silver goods. The silver in the chests, however, was all wrapped in old pillowcases and plastic bags.

Sunday, the Viking and I spent 2 hours emptying furniture, hauling it around the house, and refilling it so as to make room for incoming pieces. Then we spent another 2 and a half hours with Maman, helping her empty her bar and sideboard so that she could absorb the things from Grandmaman she is supposed to get. The bar and sideboard were then loaded in our respective trucks to be hauled back to our house. Through some miracle of good fortune and good measurement, both pieces fit where we thought they would, and they absorbed much of what was in the boxes.

There was yet more flat silver waiting for me at Maman's, including some serving pieces. Regarding those, and the things already received, I was led to an overwhelming question: just how many silver punch ladles does a woman need?

The unidentified forks have been identified. Strawberry forks. But of course.

The furniture from Grandmaman is supposed to be delivered today; Maman will be travelling with the moving company and letting them in to our house. I am supposed to be getting Grandmaman's desk for which I already have the sterling silver accoutrements (Kirk, Repouss�), a mahogany card table which I suspect to be 18th-century in date, a Victorian rocking chair, a large mirror and, to my surprise, another cedar chest (into which I packed the linens which were distributed to me on Saturday). Not sure where the cedar chest is going to go (I already have two) and the hideous plastic casters have to come off somehow. I also have to find a place for the console table which had to move to make room for the sideboard.

Last night, surveying what we, with God's help, had wrought in our home, the Viking slipped an arm around my shoulders. 'Remember when we moved into this house?' he asked.

'Yes. We had two side chairs, a bed, and some fibreboard bookcases.'

'Be careful what you wish for,' he said.

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